


Firmly Clasped

by ya3ani



Series: We Tread Solid Ground [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Crying, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, M/M, Multiple Partners, Objectification, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ya3ani/pseuds/ya3ani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd and Derek facefuck Stiles.</p><p>Stiles loves it, suffice to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firmly Clasped

**Author's Note:**

> Stands alone. Comes after [Our Strong Grip](http://archiveofourown.org/works/718765) but before [Your Hand in Ours](http://archiveofourown.org/works/710281).
> 
> Last full fic in objectification!verse.

“You ever done this before?” asked Boyd, dubious. He glanced again at Derek, who was standing against an elm a few paces away, arms crossed and face unreadable.

“Just how many interpretations does ‘I want to suck your dick’ have?” Stiles asked from his place at Boyd’s feet, his knees digging into the loamy earth. The lowering sun turned his milky skin to pink, his expressive face shadowed. “‘Cause you’re having a problem getting the message.”

Boyd huffed in annoyance. It wasn't a feeling he was used to connecting with sex, but this was Stiles – annoyance was a baseline. That didn't mean Boyd’s dick wasn't plumping up at the sight of Stiles on the ground staring up at him, hands eager and clumsy as they helped unzip Boyd’s jeans and reveal his skin.

“I don’t want you choking yourself and blaming me,” Boyd explained.

“As if – “ Stiles stopped when he’d pulled Boyd’s boxers down. With a practiced hand Boyd flipped his balls up over the elastic strap, letting his mostly flaccid cock hang in front of Stiles’ face. Stiles swallowed, adam’s apple doing a worried bob.

“Yeah,” Boyd said, half-challenge and half-rueful. “That’s what I thought.”

“Fuck,” Stiles said succinctly, but instead of pulling back and saying ‘no thanks, man, I like my throat’s shape fine the way it is’ he leaned forward, eyes suddenly glazed with a dark lust. Gripping Boyd’s cock in a hand, Stiles trailed his long fingers up and down its fattening length. His voice was hoarse when he asked, “You a grower?”

“Suck it and find out.”

“Yeah yeah,” Stiles said. It sounded like he was trying for blasé – the arousal that was flooding Boyd’s nostrils ruined that.

Like Boyd’s dick had its own gravity, Stiles leaned in until he was up close and personal, thumbing over its fleshy head. “Jesus, dude,” he exhaled, then finally licked at it.

Looking down at stupid-smart Stiles get ready to suck his dick, Boyd finally let himself feel the tide of excitement he’d been keeping at bay. Cool demeanor aside, he didn't have much experience with blowjobs. There had been the girl at a party, once, and Erica, of course, but Boyd had the feeling that today wouldn't be much like either of those times. His blood raced low as he imagined getting Stiles to go down deep, giving Stiles’ tonsils a kiss with his dick.

Stiles stopped laving spit all over Boyd’s skin. “Terrifying smile, dude.”

“Just surprised at how good you look down there,” Boyd replied.

“He looks even better when your cock is all the way in,” Derek said shortly, staring down at Stiles, who flushed and glared – but then stuffed his mouth with the head of Boyd’s cock. With a grunt Boyd curled his hand into a fist at his side, trying not to thread his fingers through Stiles’ short cut.

“Touch him,” Derek commanded, his body still a dark curl against the tree.

Hesitantly Boyd twined his hand in Stiles’ hair, which was just enough to grab at. When Stiles went down another inch the movement pulled at his follicle roots and Boyd almost apologized; but then a long shiver ticked through Stiles’ shoulders and his mouth went slutty-open, a feverish tinge spreading over his face to his neck. He looked up at Boyd, mouth conquered and quiet at last.

Boyd rumbled in his chest and firmed his hold, watching the skin at Stiles’ temples go _tight_. Stiles went into a stupor, unrestrained groans flickering up whenever his mouth wasn't too full.

“He can go lower than that,” Derek said, voice restrained.

Boyd was eager enough to test out that statement, but he wanted to see something first.

It took a deep breath to garner up the will to drag Stiles off his cock, but Boyd did it, sliding himself out of that warm throat with only a little sigh. “Head back,” he said shortly, nudging Stiles using his hair. With the other hand he gripped himself and lined his cock up against the side of Stiles’ mouth and throat, looking at how far down he’d be invading once Stiles deep-throated him.

He rubbed a finger at the line where his cock would reach – right at Stiles’ adam’s apple. “Want to try taking me down to here?”

Stiles nodded, abrupt because of the hand in his hair. Bubbled spit and precome was already flush across his mouth, smears that he seemed to be used to wearing.

Boyd jabbed at the mess, cockhead skipping over Stiles’ lips on the first thrust. Hungry, Stiles chased after it, cradling it in his tongue when he’d caught it. His eyes closed, happy.

“So you have done this before..,” Boyd said, needing to distance himself from what was happening. He didn't want this over too soon.

“I wake him up with it. Sometimes.” Leaves crunched when Derek finally stood up, a spill of black leather over the earth as he approached. “Nothing like emptying your balls to start the day right.”

Mouth starting to go puffy with bruising, Stiles moaned and tried to throat Boyd. Boyd’s encouraging hand helped him take a bit more but then he choked, spluttering around Boyd’s cock –

“Keep him on it,” Derek demanded.

Ignoring the convulsing tongue and panicked pulls for air was maybe easier than it should have been, but Boyd kept his cockhead in Stiles’ mouth, watching the violent red color of blood drain from Stiles’ face slowly. “You okay?” Boyd couldn't help asking.

It took a moment but Stiles eventually reopened his eyes, staring up. They were blown wide and hazy, and he nodded slowly then _hmm_ ed. Boyd thrust into the sound and the vibration, and Stiles started choking again, a vicious cycle.

“This is part of the reason I called you.” Derek stood behind Stiles, staring straight into Boyd’s face. “I need help training his gag reflex out of him.”

“Happy to help,” Boyd said, sounding strained. There was no way he was going to last long if this kept up. Stiles was starting to swallow around his dick, the inches disappearing down. With a quick double thrust Boyd cried out and he swore he could feel the moment the head of his cock popped into Stiles’ throat, winning out against the flesh around it.

His arm flashed up of its own accord to grip at Derek’s shoulder for stability, the position pinning Stiles between them. They both looked down and watched Boyd feed Stiles cock, their eyes riveted to the slight bulge of the beginning of Stiles’ neck when Boyd got deeper. There was still an inch or two left, though.

Derek urged Stiles off of Boyd, running a surprisingly gentle hand through Stiles’ hair. Boyd hadn’t known what to expect when Erica had whispered to him about her tryst with Stiles and Derek; she’d told him how Derek touched Stiles, pillow-soft and suggestive, but it was another thing to see that caring in front of him.

“You ready to try and take that in?” Derek asked, thumbing at Stiles’ lips.

Stiles nodded. “Wanna try.” His voice sounded scraped, and Boyd had the dual impulses to wince and smirk.

“Go slow,” Derek ordered, supposedly to each of them – and then Stiles was swallowing Boyd’s cock, sliding the first three inches easily into his mouth as Boyd huffed and gripped Derek’s shoulder. A few tears slid down Stiles’ cheek as the head of Boyd’s cock hit and went past his tonsils.

“Christ,” bit out Boyd, slamming his eyes shut against the view of Stiles’ mouth split open on his cock. Boyd could take the physical pleasure, the suckling on his dick, but he couldn't take that combined with _seeing_ it, his spit-soaked cock and Stiles’ stretched lips.

“Good, you’re getting there,” Derek said into the air between the three of them. Boyd didn't know just who Derek thought he was talking to; this was hard for Stiles but Boyd was feeling it, too, that tight pressure on his shaft, the need to come. Eyes closed it was a little easier to hold back, but when Stiles made a gurgling noise and Boyd felt that last inch of his cock find its snug fit in Stiles’ crowded mouth, Boyd had to reach down and _tug_ at his balls to keep from coming.

“Open your eyes,” came Derek’s voice. “Both of you.”

Boyd’s flew open and he groaned, mindlessly rutting an inch forward and knocking Stiles back, choking him accidentally. Derek hushed Stiles and held Boyd’s shoulder, helping him steady himself, and they both watched as Stiles fought to open his eyes.

Tears were sliding down Stiles’ cheeks non-stop, now, his throat convulsing and his heartbeat a pattering mess in his neck. Eventually his light brown eyes opened enough to look up at Boyd.

“Stiles,” Boyd said on an exhale, breathy instead of rough. Boyd cupped Stiles’ cheek in his hand, feeling the outline of his cock there. _Shit._

“You ready to fuck his mouth?” Derek was looking straight at Boyd.

“I – man, if I do I’m not going to last long,” Boyd admitted, voice husky.

"Go as long as you can," Derek said. "Pull his hair. He likes that." 

Boyd didn't need any more encouragement. He wrapped a hand in Stiles' hair and used it to pull the other boy forward, heat and slick enveloping him incrementally. Thrusting a few shallow times times, Boyd felt the head of his cock tickle at Stiles' throat. Hiccups and spluttering noises filled the air, and Boyd used his enhanced senses to sink into them, listening carefully to Stiles try so hard to make him feel good. Boyd picked up the pace, his balls swinging in the air and slapping against the underside of Stiles' face, precome flowing down from Stiles' mouth and coating his neck --

"Derek," warned Boyd, his hand tightening further in Stiles' hair. "If I don't stop now..." 

Derek looked between them. Then, “Pull out. Take a few minutes.”

Obeying his alpha, Boyd slowly withdrew from Stiles’ throat and mouth, watching the frothy precome and spit spill from Stiles’ lips, Stiles spasming as Boyd’s cock went over his gag reflex again on the way out. Out in the open air Boyd felt more like he could control himself again, and he ran a hand over his soaking wet cock, the natural slick perfect for the long, slow jacks he gave himself as he watched Derek get his cock out and slide right into Stiles’ waiting throat.

Derek was obviously comfortable with Stiles at his feet. He fucked Stiles’ throat in quick jabs, forcing tears out of Stiles with his every move, sometimes pulling out to rub the head of his cock over Stiles’ lips. If Stiles had been quiescent and content at Boyd’s feet, at Derek’s he was absolutely serene and self-satisfied, his eyes sparkling with tears and something more. He curled his hands around Derek’s thighs, bringing Derek in every time he pulled out, and Boyd jacked himself to the view.

“Watch,” Derek suddenly said, burying himself as deep as he could go, his balls pressed up against Stiles’ chin. Boyd stepped closer for a better view, and saw Stiles’ eyes bugging a bit, his hands clenching and unclenching around Derek’s thighs like he wanted to push Derek off but didn't dare. “Tongue,” Derek said, panting harshly, and – shit, Stiles was pushing his tongue out to lap at Derek’s balls.

“I can’t –” Boyd said, yanking on his balls, trying not to come, “I’m going to –”

Derek flicked his eyes to Boyd. He pulled out of Stiles and stepped behind him. Then he grabbed at Stiles’ shirt, lifting it off his limp arms.

“Come on him.” Derek gestured down to where he had a hand on one half of Stiles’ face, tilting it to the side and exposing Stiles’ neck. Boyd took a shaky step forward and then couldn't hold it back any longer: he came in ropey, thick shots all over Stiles’ neck, collarbones, and lips, staring into Stiles’ blown eyes as he did. He cursed a few times, wringing his cock for all it was worth and remembering how those bruised lips had felt wrapped around him.

When he was done, he moaned and cradled his shrinking cock. Stiles huffed a hoarse laugh, and Boyd couldn't help but laugh too, though he didn't know what was funny.

He collapsed to the dirt, his hand dirty with seed and Stiles’ spit, and watched the rest of Stiles and Derek’s show. Now laid out on his back on the ground, Stiles let Derek mount his mouth and fuck it, Derek’s balls hitting his face as Derek tweaked his nipples and growled down praise.

Derek came straight into Stiles’ mouth, or so Boyd assumed when he watched Stiles swallow four or five times right around Derek’s cock, a line of white come connecting the head of Derek’s cock and Stiles’ lips when Derek pulled out.

“Wow,” Boyd said, feeling sex-dumb. There were a few moments of complete peace.

“Get the water,” Derek said in a perfectly modulated voice as he stood up over Stiles, his half-hard dick still dripping. Boyd grabbed a bottle from the pack they’d brought into the woods and threw it Derek’s way. Wasting no time, Derek clawed the plastic lid off and offered some to Stiles, helping him sit up and kissing his face, thoroughly cleaning the precome, spit, and come from his skin.

Boyd shifted, feeling out of place in the oncoming night.

“Come over here.” Derek jerked his head towards himself and Stiles. “Get cleaned off.”

Which was how Boyd found himself washing his dick off using bottled water and drying off using the washcloths Derek had thought to bring. The sun was almost totally down at this point, and if Boyd had been a human he’d have had trouble seeing in close-dark. This in mind, he tried to remember to make noise when he moved around Stiles.

Eventually their activity and cleaning subsided, leaving Stiles cradled between Derek’s legs, Derek’s front to his back, and Boyd a few feet away sitting down.

"So. That was nice,” Boyd found himself confessing.

Hacking laughter met Boyd’s pronouncement, Stiles head thrown back onto Derek’s shoulder and his eyes crinkling in mirth. Boyd had never really been attracted much to guys – blowjobs were pretty damn nice regardless of sex – but seeing Stiles lit up, Derek’s hands steady around him, Boyd could see it. Definitely.

“Your throat,” Derek said into Stiles’ ear, all the alpha gone from his voice.

“‘S okay,” Stiles said. It came out a whisper.

Boyd got up and sat in front of them, hand outstretched. “I can,” he offered, quirking an eyebrow at Stiles. Out of all of the pack, he was the best at taking pain from humans. Better than Derek, even.

Stiles nodded, closing his eyes and resting back on Derek’s shoulder again. Boyd touched his hand to Stiles’ throat, letting the small aches sink into his skin before sucking them away and to his own heart. A wave of coldness spread through him. Then it was over, Stiles _hmm_ ing in contentment, and Boyd took back his hand.  

Before he totally moved out of their shared space, though, Boyd chanced a look down – to where Stiles’ jeans were tight on his dick, a huge wet spot growing off-center of the zipper. “You haven’t come yet, man,” Boyd said.

“Ha,” Stiles replied, squirming a little. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Throwing a look to Derek that earned him a nod, Boyd carefully unzipped Stiles’ jeans, dragging them and his boxers down. Eager and wet, his cock popped out like it was happy to see Boyd – hell, it probably was. Stiles sighed and Boyd wrapped a hand around him, jerking him off quick and sharp, the angle strange but otherwise easy.

When Stiles came he lunged for Boyd’s shoulder with a hand, wrapping it around Boyd’s neck and panting out harshly. His come dripped from Boyd’s front to the dirt, and Stiles laughed softly.

“I Jackson Pollock’d your shirt, dude. Sorry about that.”

“You’re fine,” Boyd promised. “Just fine.”

The stars were peeking out when Stiles fell asleep on Derek’s chest, Boyd right next to them.

“You guys have school tomorrow,” Derek said under his breath, obviously knowing Boyd would hear despite the quiet tones. “Help Stiles. His voice won’t be fully back yet.”

Boyd nodded, said, “Okay.” He’d have protected Stiles anyway – Boyd may not have fully understood his own dual nature yet, but he was smart enough to know that witnessing Derek’s care for Stiles had changed something in him, for how he related to Stiles. It didn't worry Boyd, though; he wasn't so easily shaken.

Together he and Derek ran hands up and down Stiles’ back, hushing him when he almost woke up and keeping him warm.

Eventually Boyd fell asleep underneath the nightscape, pack cuddled close.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt & follow at [ya3ani](http://www.ya3ani.tumblr.com)!


End file.
